Elements
by RobertDowneyJrLove
Summary: Like nature, Sam Puckett had many elements and parts. Freddie Benson loved them all.


_(You hear her before you see her. She's a thunderstorm.)_

"Ham!" Her voice is loud, almost obnoxiously so as she slams the door open, barely noticing as it crashed into the wall and ricocheted back.

She doesn't really need to be loud, he's always said that he hears her before he sees her but she still likes to make her presence known before she actually graces you with it. She's like a thunderstorm. You hear the thunder before you see the rain and lightning. The kind of thing that crashes into your life with all of the grace of a bull in a China shop.

She's a different kind of thunderstorm. She's a thunderstorm of color, of gold curls, blue eyes and whatever colors she's chosen to wear for the day.

Her voice is loud, obnoxious and like thunder, you're almost guaranteed to hear it. It can be heard over everything else.

Bright colors and crazy prints make-up most of her wardrobe, unless she's feeling mature and then it's jeans with a girly top.

She's lightning.

A flash of color you see as she barrels past you on her way to get food.

Crazy. Colorful. Electric.

Her eyes remind him of the sky after the rain.

Blue

A pure, intense blue.

Occasionally when something really hurt her, her eyes turned a slate grey that was like the clouds when it was about to rain. Her tears were like the rain. Relieving the hurt like rain falling out of the sky relieves the pressure in the clouds.

She's a thunderstorm.

_(You catch her when she falls. She's a snowflake and a hailstorm.) _

"Snow!"

She's twirling and dancing in the falling snow, catching snowflakes in her hand and on her tongue. It was one her favorite activities during the winter, not many people knew about it. He only knew it because he had caught her doing it one time. Her eyelashes flutter in the sharp, icy wind that stings her blue eyes and makes it hard to breath. The snow is going from a gentle flutter to a hard fall as it picks up and more snow collects on the sidewalk.

She was like a snowflake in a way.

Like snow she didn't fall very often. Most of the time, she liked to avoid the pain of getting hurt should she dare let her guard down for even a second. Inevitably though, she let her guard down and like she, herself, could predict, she wound up getting hurt.

She didn't flutter like a delicate snowflake or like Carly did.

She crashed to the ground like hail.

Crashing.

Breaking.

Stinging.

She was crashing like hail as it hit the ground, breaking like ice as it hit the concrete and stinging like the icy wind as it blew over him, chilling him to the core.

The icy sting she inflicts, because of the pain she's in when she falls, is hard to withstand but he does because he knows that if he doesn't catch her like he would a snowflake during a light snow, than she'll crash to the ground like hail and shatter like ice on concrete. He can't let her do that. He catches her when she falls like a snowflake despite her crashing like hail.

She's a snowflake and a hailstorm.

_(You feel her. She's the wind.) _

"I love the wind!"

Her golden curls are flying behind her, her blue eyes are closed as she stands in the middle of the park enjoying the warm breeze as it floats past them on the usually bright, sunny day. It wasn't like Seattle not to be raining. He doesn't care. He just enjoys watching her. Watching her carefree enjoyment as she lets the wind envelope her in the dry warmth, unlike the wet icy rain that was the usual for Seattle. He enjoys seeing her so carefree and relaxed, just enjoying the feeling of the wind.

She's the wind in a way.

You feel her.

You feel the warmth in her voice when she's being sincere or the occasional sweet moment.

The hard cold of her anger.

The tickling softness of her playfulness.

The uncomfortable dryness of her humor.

The damp humidity of her sarcasm that drips from every word.

You feel everything about her.

You can't help it. She's like the standing in the wind. You can feel her. You can feel the change in her like you can feel when the wind goes from one phase to another. You can't help but feel it because being with her is like standing in the wind.

He starting to think he loves the wind like she does because he can feel her.

She's the wind.

_(You get burned if you play with her. She's fire.) _

It was easy for her to hurt people.

She had been hurt so much in her life, until she couldn't do anything but hurt people. She can keep herself from hurting people. She just doesn't like too. She likes to inflict pain because pain is the only thing she's ever known.

It burns.

Getting hurt by her is a deep intense burn.

You wonder why you played with her.

It was like playing with fire. You were bound to get burned.

Her temper was hot. An angry red heat that reminded him of an intense flame that was painful to even look at but you can't help it because something about a flame like that draws you in like a moth. The intense red heat is so intriguing, so painful yet so beautiful. He can't help but be attracted to her. There's something about that angry red-hot temper that draws him in and leaves him gasping in pain but still going back for more.

It's addicting.

Hot.

Angry.

Intense.

Painful.

Intriguing.

Beautiful.

He can't help but play with her because of the intriguing red-hot temper that burned like fire. The red-hot temper that could reduce him to gasps and sharp breaths. The same red-hot temper that sizzled beneath the surface of a beautiful blue-eyed blonde.

He gets burned if he plays with her too much.

She's fire.

_(You soak her in. She's water.) _

He drank water constantly. Mostly because his mother insisted on it but also because since he had started working out, he found water made him feel better than sports drinks. He liked the coldness of water rather than the cold saltiness of most sports drinks. He liked the cool pressure of water spraying from his shower-head. Since he started working out and spending more time with her, he's found that cold showers keep all of his appendages and hormones in check.

She's water.

You soak her in.

You love every part of her. The warmth of her softer touch that seems to relax every muscle in your body. The cold sting of her anger when it slaps you in the face and the pressure of her icy gazes threatens to freeze you.

Simmering.

Cool.

Boiling.

Icy.

Scalding.

Freezing.

The different phases of her temperament change like the temperature of water in it's various stages. She could simmer and seeth, gnashing her teeth and threatening to bite. She could cool off and apologize with a smile. She could boil over and explode in a nasty burst that would leave you burnt. Or she could stab you with an icy glare. She could scald you and cause you in pain for a while. Or she could freeze you out and leave you cold for days.

He could never tell with her.

But he still soaked her in.

She's water.

_(You pick her. She's a flower.) _

Out of all the girls he could have chosen, he chooses her. He falls for her and though he can't understand for the life of him why he would, he goes with it. She's cruel, abrasive and sometimes he thinks she might need a touch of anger management therapy to help keep her temper in check, he can't help but love her.

She's a flower.

Beautiful.

Colorful.

Enticing.

She's beautiful, that's the first thing you notice about her. She's a beautiful blue-eyed golden haired little spitfire that you just can't help but love because despite her temperament, she's lovable.

She's something.

You love everything about her. The way she looks, the colorful way she dresses, the enticing way she smells and the way she blossoms into a beautiful woman with a heart of gold. The way when you touch her, her skin feels like velvet. Soft and warm, as if by the sun.

She's a flower.

Soft like the velvety petals.

Heart of gold like the yellow center.

Colorful like fields of them.

Enticing like the smell of a sweet scented flower.

He still can't for the life of him understand why he fell for her of all girls but he goes with it. She's just something he chooses because he finds her beautiful and enticing. Something truly amazing and colorful.

He picks her.

She's a flower.

_(You love her and her many elements. She's natural.) _

He'd never for the life of him ever understand the many elements of Sam Puckett. Maybe it was one of the many mysteries of life, how she could be natural and beautiful like flowers yet still hot and intriguing like fire. Hot and cold like water. Loud and electric like a thunderstorm. Crash like hail yet easy to catch like a snowflake.

He'd never understand it.

Yet he loves her and her many elements because that's who she is. A single person made of many elements and parts that he has yet to discover. He wants to keep her the way she is because that's the way he loves her.

She's natural.

_(Love has many parts and elements like nature. Sam Puckett also has many parts and elements like nature. That's why he loves her. It's just nature.) _


End file.
